


Fair Trade

by stuffilikeiwrite



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: A little angsty but mostly just Vader being pissed, Alludes to Slavery being widely used by the Empire, And Tarkin being smug, Arguing, Bickering, Cause he's a dick like that, Dark, Drama, Gen, POV Darth Vader, Pre-Star Wars: A New Hope, References Boba Fett, References Dr Aphra, References Palpatine, References Shmi Skywalker, References Watto, Slave Trade, Star Wars: Rebels References, Tarkin uses his favour with the Emperor to dismiss Vader's disagreement, Understandably, Vader hates it though, Vader is not a fan of Tarkin condoning slave trade, Vader is remembered of his past as a slave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 10:55:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25848421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stuffilikeiwrite/pseuds/stuffilikeiwrite
Summary: "It is not, but I fail to see how your aspiration to transfer the population of an entire city into slave labour is beneficial.""It's a simple concept, Lord Vader. We need cheap labour, we are running short on manufactured supplies - particularly for the ever stagnating construction of the Death Star, but there are a slew of other resources being inhibited by lack of manpower. We make use of our opposition, we solve the problem. Thus, rather than deeming this new wave of possible labour expendable, we round up the survivors and put them to work."
Relationships: Wilhuff Tarkin & Darth Vader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	Fair Trade

"Why are _you_ getting involved, Lord Vader? This lands above your expertise, you're not directly involved in governing property."

Vader bit back a snarl, clenching his jaw behind the mask as he stared the older man down. Tarkin was right, he was out of line. He had no business here, and yet the way in which Tarkin was planning on actively shipping off the former inhabitants of Jerru's capital for slavery was making his skin crawl. It was appalling, and much as Vader himself didn't particularly value the lives of the citizens sympathizing with the rebellious factions of the Galaxy - he _would_ have preferred to see the poor people dead. If _he_ had been at the helm of the mission, calling the shots, he would have called for a public mass execution far above trading living people off to serve others. A life without freedom was no life.

"It is not, but I fail to see how your aspiration to transfer the population of an entire city into slave labour is beneficial."

"It's a simple concept, Lord Vader. We need cheap labour, we are running short on manufactured supplies - particularly for the ever stagnating construction of the Death Star, but there are a slew of other resources being inhibited by lack of manpower. We make use of our opposition, we solve the problem. Thus, rather than deeming this new wave of possible labour expendable, we round up the survivors and put them to work."

Clenching his gloved hands into tight fists, Vader took a moment to compose himself. He knew he didn't have the authority to belay Tarkin's orders, or to warrant a cease and desist order of the movement. The Emperor would be punishing him gravely for his disobedience, for his dismissal of Tarkin's tactics. Still, long since repressed memories of _The Jedi_ during his years as an enslaved young boy were slowly rising to the surface. The constant fear of making a misstep, of seeing either himself or his mother get killed as an example; as a threat to their fellow slaves. Owned by another person, without autonomy, without a voice. Barely even considered a person, but instead seen only as a necessity, a commodity. Disposable.

"Indeed, but it is easy to provide concrete evidence to suffice as to _why_ it makes a poorly functioning concept. You are inconvenienced by the Rebel Alliance, yet you are actively contributing to their base of traitors by inspiring an inevitable uprising. Slaves _will_ riot, Governor, if their standards are not adequately met."

Vader pressed the point with as much urgency as he felt he might get away with.

"Perhaps so, but there's always ways to motivate even the most stubborn, most resistant of men. Don't you agree?"

Tarkin raised one silver eyebrow, fingers laced behind his back as he tilted his head to the side. The look in his pale blue eyes was one of inquiry, one of amusement. Vader felt the rage prickling his skin, wishing he had the rank needed to rid the Imperial career ladder of the cruel Grand Moff. A man his master viewed as the closest thing he had to a friend, to a comrade, a brother in arms. Tarkin was loyal to Palpatine, to the Empire. Vader _despised_ the safety net that granted Tarkin; the leniency being so closely tied to the Emperor their friendship brought him.

"You're suspiciously quiet, could it be that you're finally electing to see the reasoning behind my argument?" said the Moff after a moment of silence, thin lips twisting into a condescending smirk.

"You are in the wrong. Your ambition will prove to be your downfall, Governor. Mark my words," Vader retorted if only to brush Tarkin’s prying off, thankful in that moment for the fact that his vocalizer would translate any substance but overt vitriol into a monotone rumble.

"My, are you threatening me, Lord Vader?" chuckled Tarkin, shaking his head at the absurdity of the situation. "Why is it that you are so focused on the negative aspects of slavery? There have always been slave traders in the Galaxy, look at the backwater planets along the outer rim. Indeed, they have their fair share of crime cartels, but at the end of the day - if we are to remain standing as an Empire, we need the support of men with their feet in the underworld."

“So you are suggesting that getting in league with cartels will ground the Empire?”

“I am suggesting that if you want to rule and stay on top, you need to be prepared to play an unjust game. For that reason alone, contributing to the accusation of free labour is a perfectly sustainable solution to a bigger issue.”

"I doubt the Emperor agrees to your vicious, self serving rhetoric."

"On the contrary, he understands quite intricately the inner workings of maintaining our Imperial rule. As you say, we need a strong foundation to stand on, and the Emperor himself has offered me free reigns to use my power however I see fit. Jerru is an unfortunate case, but perhaps if the capital can be quelled, the rest of the planet will follow suit. Respect will earn us visible results."

"It is not respect that you are conjuring," Vader remarked, not missing the predatory gleam in Tarkin's eyes before he turned away with an uninvited sense of disgust.

"That makes _two_ of us, then. We both know the Imperial circle hardly views you as a paragon of sanctity. You would know the value in being feared, above respected. After all, isn’t your practice of intimidating what has led you here?"

Tarkin's voice hardened as he spoke, tone rough and sharp. Were Vader not the man he was, he might have been affected by the sheer confidence the other man was radiating. Instead, he folded his arms defiantly across his broad, puffed out chest. Making good use of his height, as he peered down at the shorter man; all skinny and wirey, Vader knew he had both bulk, power and the Force on his side if he must defend his honour. Still, he suspected Tarkin had little desire to dispose of him or take him down; he knew the Emperor would be just as disapproving of Tarkin going after Vader, as would he be in the opposite case. Tarkin was too clever for petty retribution, but he was evidently not above getting his point across.

"Perhaps. Yet, you shall never see me praise the use of nonconsensual labour. I have _standards_ , and it disappoints me to see that the Empire as a whole does not share my attitude."

"No, of course, it is _certainly_ more humane to execute aimlessly. You have your saving graces, Lord Vader, but you lack perspective. You lack political awareness, which only serves to pinpoint why exactly the Emperor has not granted you an official rank. You serve yourself, before the Empire. It just so happens that your current ambitions coincide with the Emperor’s, but whenever his motivation shifts away from yours, you'll find yourself losing his favour. You'll burn out quickly, despite your reliance on the Force."

“You cannot begin to fathom my connection to the Emperor.”

“You lack reliability.”

"And _you_ lack forethought."

Vader took a long, slow stride towards the older man. Tarkin didn't as much as flinch, simply narrowing his eyes dangerously as the corners of his lips tugged downwards. Thin, old, Vader could break him as easily as a twig. Still, the man was resolute; impossible to shift. Impossible to change. Vader wondered if the Moff would be of the same mind, if he too had experienced life as a slave firsthand. Would he still betray his roots willingly? As a man born into wealth and prosperity, he would have benefited off of the status quo all his life. What did he know of being penniless, hungry and in agony? What did he know of going to sleep with an empty stomach? What did he know of sharing cramped, dirty close quarters with only your mother to rely on? What did he know of being battered, and beaten, and punished into subservience? Tarkin was the same sort of man as Watto had been; selfish, callous and _holier than thou_. 

"Oh, _do_ explain yourself, Lord Vader. I don't believe I have ever seen you get so clearly worked up over a political inquiry."

Tarkin's voice was laced with the same dark, crude amusement. Sadistic in the way he used his position to toy with Vader of all people; a man who could kill him without so much as laying a finger on him. Vader was used to the people in his close proximity abusing and misusing their power; still it never failed to rile him up. Never failed to send him into a deep set, livid fury. But it was only in Tarkin's company that he needed to suppress it, if he wanted to keep his perks and his position of power with his invisible rank. Still, he failed to understand how keeping prisoners of war alive was any kinder than executing them on spot, if their future was to be wasted in durasteel factories.

"You fail to understand that by garnering a population of enslaved individuals in one area, you are imploring them to riot. You are inspiring disarray, and without adequate security personnel to supervise your labour camps and factories; you will inevitably find yourself with yet another faction of the Rebel Alliance on your hands,” Vader pressed, and this time the growl in his voice _did_ carry through the voicebox.

"Is that so? How quaint, coming from you. Still, that's not what I'm interested in hearing. I need no lecturing from the likes of _you_ , I wish to know why you are so _personally_ invested in this matter."

It was a trap Vader had willingly stepped into, seeing the red flags from miles away but still he'd persisted. Ignoring the thrilled spark in Tarkin's unkind gaze, he did his best to block out memories of The Jedi; sleeping under a freezing sky, having offered his one ratty blanket up to his mother who had developed a cough the past few weeks. She was getting gradually better, but the boy hadn't been willing to risk it. Without her, he'd have been truly alone in this world. He’d rather freeze and starve half to death, than be _lonely_.

"There is no personal investment. All I wish is to strengthen the system we have built, your reckless schemes may endanger our prosperity. Your pride may yet prove to be your downfall."

"Your schemes have been no less bold, or cumbersome. You forget yourself, Lord Vader. You landed yourself this position all by your own doing. If you'd been less prone to acting upon your own volition, rather than obeying the Emperor's whim, you'd be free. You may even have had a chance to overrule this particular project."

It was true. 

Vader had been going behind Palpatine's back, had been outwardly protesting and talking back to his master's face. He had been getting himself in league with people like Boba Fett or Dr. Aphra, for his own benefit. He'd felt neglected and useless without Force users to purge, but instead of improving his situation by making a stand, he'd found himself reigned in and leashed. Like a pet, or a common lap lothwolf. Another frankly revolting part of his existence; trapped underneath Tarkin's thumb on behalf of the Emperor. 

_Ironic_.

"Now, as I was saying,” Tarkin continued after a brief pause, “the idea is to use the captured citizens of the capital for free labour. We are in dire need of extra hands, and we need to keep the credits running low. Hence, this is our best bet. In fact, the only person who has been vocally expressing overt displeasure with the ordeal is you."

"It is hardly surprising," said Vader simply, a subtle vision of thousands of children torn from the arms of their parents flashing before his mind's eye.

Vader didn't care about them perse, but _The Jedi_ had once sworn to ban and abolish slave trade within the Galaxy. He’d promised to free his mother, and when he could not - he’d promised himself to destroy the trade. The notion of willingly allowing such shady businesses to continue just under his nose was unnerving, and it took him back to a time when his perceptions of the world at large had been solely black and white. It wasn't until much later, when he was picked up by the Jedi Order, that he had discovered the gray area that lay between. The blurry, _morally ambiguous area_. These days, most of his actions seemed to fall somewhere between gray and black on the scale. Still, even with his irrefutably skewed sense of morals, not even _he_ would stoop as low as to aid slave trade.

"Then I presume we are done here," Tarkin shrugged, the tension of his shoulders wearing off and his hard set jawline relaxing as he slipped back into his polished, posh facade.

"We are. Still, I refuse to condone your actions in this instance."

"Indeed, you are entitled to your opinion on the matter, as always. Still, you are hopelessly outmatched. Remember your place, Lord Vader, before the Emperor has yet again to remind you of what exactly it does and does not entail.”

“Likewise,” Vader grumbled, beginning to turn towards the hydraulic doors that would offer him much needed space from the Governor.

“Oh, and between you and me, I do have big plans for this particular endeavour,” Tarkin was quick to add, making Vader stop mid step out of a deeply rooted, conditioned courtesy. “I was considering disposing of the parental units, at the very least those above a productive age. Indeed, it appears the children may bring most profits.”

Vader let his hands fall to his sides; an uncomfortable, odd sensation pooling at the pit of his belly. He knew he should bite back, and he wanted to, but he had a sense of pride to maintain. The memory of The Jedi, of children around his age who were orphaned yet served under Watto’s cruel hand. Still, dismissing the unwanted reminder, Vader knew he had to mend the bridge between himself and his master. He figured there may be other ways to inadvertently gain what he wanted, and put a stick in the wheel of Tarkin’s schemes. There were no shortcomings of factory fires after all, so who would think to blame _him_ if a couple of ill fated accidental explosions were to transpire? Tarkin may suspect his involvement, but if handled delicately, there'd be no evidence leading back to him.

"I see. You forget who you are dealing with, Governor," Vader said coolly, refusing to linger long enough for another snarky retort as he turned on his heel to stalk out of the command bridge.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I was inspired by the Hamilton Cabinet Battles, as well as the fact that Vader did grow up a slave and did despise slaves even while serving the Empire. I can see Tarkin not caring at all about disposable manual labour, and Vader having to back down on his stance despite despising the concept. 
> 
> Not sure how in character it is, but I had fun writing it. It’s a more serious topic, and I hope it worked out well!


End file.
